Flux
by kmcniff97
Summary: Alizah Reid's life is tossed by the death of her mother and discovery of her half brother, Spencer. I cannot write summaries for the life of me, so if it sounds even mildly intrieging, please give it a shot!


AN: This will be taking place near the beginning of season 5. This chapter is fairly short, just because it's the beginning, but I'll have the next chapter up ASAP. Enjoy!

My name is Alizah. Alizah Reid. I'm 17 years old.

There is no simple way to describe the situation I've been tossed into, nor is there an easy way out. So, I'll put it this way: I used to have a Dad, now I don't. I used to have a mother, now I don't. I used to have a family that gave a shit, and now I don't. Or so I thought.

My name is Alizah, Alizah Reid to be exact. I'm sixteen years old, and until four days ago I had a Mom, a home, and every will to live.

Now, I don't have a Mom, or a home, but I've somehow kept that will. It may be due to the fact that my mother didn't feel any pain when our car collided with the impaired driver of the pickup truck who lost control of the wheel because he was too busy trying to grab the nearly empty bottle of Jack Daniels that was nudged under the passenger's seat. It may also be because of my overly compensating best friends Isabela and Margot, or my alarmingly overweight cat Henry. But I'm pushing through, nonetheless.

I've been informed that I apparently have a half-brother named Spencer, by my father who walked out on my mom and I ten years ago, and he supposedly wants to take me in since I have no other family to go to. Rumor has it he's 27 years old, and only lives ten minutes away from the home I no longer occupy.

That means I've probably passed him on the street, bumped into him on the metro and apologized nervously, or sat across from him in a coffee shop. The world is awfully small when you think about it.

His name is Spencer, Spencer Reid. Other than his age and address, I don't know squat about him. I assume he has a stable career, because if he's willing to take in a teenage girl he probably didn't even know existed I doubt he bounces from job to job and dumpsters dives for food. Odds are he's just as confused as I am by this situation, so at least I'm not alone in that.

As I walk around the structure that I once called home, I don't feel much. It's empty. The grey suede sofa that was once the center of all movie nights is packed away in storage; the picture frames that lined nearly every wall in the house, that were filled with photos of my mom and I's trips and vacations were all condensed into a cardboard box that sat anxiously by the front door. I can't remember the last time I saw any room in my house empty.

I made my way up the twelve wooden steps and hung a left, taking three strides to my bedroom door.

"_I don't think I've ever seen your walls before"_ Margot broke the silence. _"I don't think she has either"_ Isabela chimed in.

The two of them had been camping out on my bedroom floor since the moment I came home from the hospital, alone. They practically lived there anyway.

I let out a tiny laugh and smirked, because I knew they were right. Margot, dark blonde, olive skinned and pear shaped, slid over to me and placed her hand on my upper back.

"_It'll be okay, you'll make it through. We've got your back"_ She said with more sincerity in her voice than I'd heard in our five years of friendship.

"_Yeah, we're in this for the long run. We'll ride with you until the wheels fall off" _Isabela assured me.

"I know I know, no need to remind me" I flashed a smile, which oddly enough wasn't fake. Given the circumstances, you would think I'd be a complete mess. But I wasn't. Maybe it's because of innate ability to compartmentalize my thoughts and emotions to the point where they cancel each other out. Or it could also be due to the fact that my entire existence has consisted of bouncing from location to location, from project to project, so this isn't much different. Except this time I don't have my mother with me, plain and simple.

We took one last look around the room, walked out of my former home, and parted ways. I jumped into my navy blue 2006 Nissan Altima, with the contents of my belongings piled in the trunk and over flowing from my back seat. I weaved in and out of my now former neighborhood as though I'd never see it again, which in the back of my head I know this isn't even close to the last time I'd be driving these exact roads. It's comforting that I don't have to completely start over at a new school, given Spencer only lives a hop skip and leap over town, but I know in time that it'll hurt to wonder these streets.


End file.
